


The Unethical Implications of Waiting

by bhloewriter



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst?, F/F, aubrey and stacie are barely there, fluff?, i don't know what this is, jesse is irrelevant but not a dick, someone please love me., suuuuuper minor beca/jesse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 13:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13590966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhloewriter/pseuds/bhloewriter
Summary: "When she was sixteen years old, Beca Mitchell told her best she was in love with her.When she was eighteen years old, Beca Mitchell told her best friend she was still in love with her."It only took, like, five or six years to work this out, guys.





	The Unethical Implications of Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr. @bhloewriter if ya wanna check it out

_The ethicality in waiting is not often something explored. As humans we are to grow up with this ability; this patience for something, everything, anything at all. We must grow and adapt and learn that ‘all good things come to those who wait’. But wait for what, exactly?_

__Some say that waiting is an essential part of life. That a person waits for everything, whether they know it or not. Case in point, you grow up waiting to meet the love of your life, the person you are meant to be with forever, your future spouse perhaps._  
_

__

When she was sixteen years old, Beca Mitchell told her best she was in love with her.

“I’m in love with you,” she had said.

And the redhead herself, Chloe Beale, had smiled up at the girl who stood in front of her at the public library and said, “we’re best friends, Bec. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

And so the two went on with their days. Their lives. Beca sat down across from her best friend and cracked open the dusty government book she needed to reread if she had any shot of passing AP U.S. Government, and enjoyed the silence that fell between them as Chloe returned to her AP Microeconomics book. Their January finals were coming up.

Chloe had just gotten out of her very first long term relationship with a boy named Tom Anderson three weeks ago, after all.

Beca could wait.

* * *

_Because waiting is good. It humbles you and teaches you that you cannot get everything that you ask for. You have to wait in line to purchase your groceries just like everyone else. You have to wait behind all the other cars in a traffic jammed street just as everyone else is._

_Waiting is an inevitability._

_But is waiting for all things equal?_

When she was eighteen years old, Beca Mitchell told her best friend she was  _still_  in love with her.

“I’m sill in love with you,” she had said.

And the redhead herself, Chloe Beale, had smiled down at her phone for a moment, before returning her attention to the girl in front of her and said, “I’m sorry, what did you say? Chicago just sent me a photo of his admission letter to UCLA.”

“I’m still in love with you,” Beca stumbled nervously, the effortless previous attempt being left in the past and replaced with doubt and uncertainty instead.

“Oh.” Chloe put her phone away and turned to her best friend. “We’re best friends, Bec. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

And so the two went on with their days. Their lives. Beca shoved her hands in her pocket and looked at the electronic clock hanging over the doorway to their school before nodding. She helped the redhead up and they walked back in from their lunch break in the courtyard, frozen December wind blowing over them.

Chloe had been dating Chicago Walp for almost a year now anyway.

Beca would wait.

* * *

_Is waiting in line behind that obnoxious guy on his cellphone at the grocers the same thing as waiting to be accepted into college? To be with the person you love? Should it be treated as such? Impatiently tapping your foot with your arms crossed and your eyes rolled; standing by the mailbox every day with hope in your eyes and your fingers crossed; bouncing nervously as you look up from your phone’s dating app and enter the coffee shop you and your date agreed to meet in?_

_How should waiting be treated in every scenario?_

 

At the age of eighteen, the duo ended up going off to college together. Southern bound to Atlanta Georgia, home of Barden University.

It was coincidental of course. Barden had a great Vet program and acapella life for Chloe and it was home to Beca’s dad’s occupation as well as, okay, sure, a pretty okay music program too.

So it was coincidental, but not at all ironic.

The redhead had broken up with – or rather  _been_  broken up with  _by_ – Chicago before they headed off to college, his interest in UCLA outweighing his interest in Chloe.

So that left the two best friends attending college together. And, y’know, they’d definitely even have been roommates together in every single scenario that including them checking the boxes and filling out forms.

If not for Beca.

“It doesn’t look like we’re roommates, Bec,” Chloe had frowned the day they got their rooming assignments.

“Oh, uh, that’s weird. I wonder why,” Beca had scratched the back of her neck as Chloe eyed her suspiciously.

“You did request me, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, dude,” Beca nodded ferociously, “of course,” she lied easily.

And so the two of them continued on, Beca getting ready to room with a girl by the name of ‘Aubrey Posen’ and Chloe’s roommate a girl named ‘Stacie Conrad’.

It was better this way.

Beca started to lose sight of what she had been waiting all those years for.

* * *

_Some would argue that, at its core, all waiting is the same. Extract feelings and emotions and all that’s left is the same root problem. To wait or not to wait. That clouding every situation with feelings overcomplicated them, and everything would be much simpler if not for those human characteristics._

_And while that’s fine and dandy, sure, it also raises the question of what ethical implications there were to waiting at all._

_Was waiting some stupid made up rule that society constructed to as not to feel bad when things did not go their way immediately upon idealized? Was waiting some game that humans choose to partake in due to their own misfortune and ultimate disappointment?_

_How far does one go to protect their moral, ethical views on waiting, too? Should they wait forever? Or should they give up when it has been long enough (a time predetermined by the participant) and cut their losses?_

 

They met their roommates and found out they were in the same building, just a floor apart. They’d share the same shower room, and that was a daunting thought for Beca but a comforting one for Chloe.

So comforting, in fact, that she’d barged into her best friend’s shower.

“Becs!” She had yelled.

“Dude! What the hell?” Beca tried to cover her bits with what little material she had.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Chloe smirked.

“Get the hell out, Chloe,” Beca groaned.

The redhead just giggled. “Alright, prude.”

And that was the last face-to-face interaction the two of them would share for two more weeks. School was a busy place, and both of them were a busy people.

Their relationship was pretty normal for the rest of the year. So much so, in fact, that it wasn’t out of the question to still room together. And come sophomore year the pair found an apartment to share with each other and Aubrey.

(Stacie had opted to room with a blonde Australian she had met in passing one day named ‘Fat Amy’ and a few other girls who Beca’s pretty sure were named Flo and Cynthia-Rose. She didn’t know. But they got along and it was okay.)

One night in the middle of their junior year, the pair went to a club and got drunk. Aubrey and Stacie tagged along too, because they all actually became pretty good friends after they spent so much time together since freshman year.

So they went out and got really drunk.

So much so, in fact, that around two in the morning and Beca’s back was pressed to the door as her lips were pressed to the redhead’s.

“Let. Me. In.” Beca panted out as Chloe fumbled with the door. 

“I’m trying,” Chloe bit back.

The pair stumbled inside as Chloe led them to her bedroom, all but throwing the brunette on her bed as they hastily removed jackets and shoes.

“I’ve been dreaming about this, for, like, ever,” the twenty year old brunette panted.

“Well it has been like four years,” Chloe let out a breathy laugh, “It’s the least I owe you.”

The only thing that was registered was the slamming of their apartment door shut and the apartment completely empty besides the redhead herself.

Beca didn’t really see an upside to waiting.

* * *

_Another theory hypothesized is that a person should wait only so long as they are not being held back by that decision. That if you’re behind the obnoxious guy on his cellphone in the grocers, you should only stay there so long as no other line is shorter. That if you’re waiting for U of M to accept you into college, you should only wait so long as no other college needs an answer, and you are not wasting time. That you should only wait to be with the person you love so long as you are not disallowing yourself to be with another person and potentially fall in love with them, too._

 

Chloe didn’t know where Beca spent her night, but it was probably better to not ask.

So the two of them spent four days in complete silence before their friendship went back to normal, their infamous night to go without any sort of acknowledgement ever again.

And it was fine. It was okay. It was  _good_. They went back to complete normalcy, and things genuinely seemed to be at their best since Beca had told Chloe she had been in love with her the first time four years ago.

Their friendship was restored to the same place it was seven years ago when they first met at the age of thirteen.

And then it progressed even further. Coffee dates, watching movies every Saturday, studying together every Sunday. Their relationship was becoming so much bigger than it ever had, and there was no doubt in the brunette’s mind that it was because she had let go.

Maybe waiting was not all that it’s cracked up to be.

* * *

_One theory to the waiting game is to do it until results are seen._

_That if a person is faithful to the wish, if they’re respectful and responsible and patient, then they will get what they deserve and have been longing for. That if patience is diminished, then so will the odds that their wish will ever come true._

_A person is to wait until they get what they deserve because if they do it – and do it right – they will get exactly what it is they always wanted._

 

The first month they came back from summer vacation and began their senior year, Beca even started to date someone.

His name was Jesse and he was a new transfer from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts.

He was an acapella nerd and they worked together at the campus radio station, and for the first time in five years, Beca felt truly happy to be in a relationship that wasn’t with her best friend.

The pair hung out all the time, and he was dorky and he’d ask her politely every so often to watch classic movies with him like Breakfast at Tiffany’s and The Shawshank Redemption and even The Truman Show. Beca couldn’t say she was particularly fond of movies, but watching Jesse’s face light up was enough to make her want to sit through a few every few weeks.

(And, yes, okay, sure. She did actually grow a soft spot for The Shawshank Redemption)

They were hanging out so much, in fact, that Beca’s coffee dates, Saturday movies, and Sunday study sessions with Chloe were soon overtaken with Jesse’s plans instead, and the two roommates saw each other less and less and less.

It didn’t really bother Beca.

And for the most part, Beca didn’t really think it could bother the redhead either. Chloe had been in relationships before. This was not unusual behavior for a person once they got a significant other.

Beca was finally done waiting.

* * *

_Except maybe that’s the thing about waiting._

_Maybe there is no set rule or theory about it. Maybe you could wait forever for the person you love or maybe you could only wait for so long._

_Maybe all of it – every last piece of the equation – was unethical to begin with._

 

At the end of their senior year, Beca was all but moved into Jesse’s apartment. She still payed rent and of course contributed to the place she shared with Aubrey and Chloe, but most of her clothing and all of her mixing equipment was at Jesse’s, and rarely a day went by that she did not sleep over.

So it surprised her, to say the least, when Chloe knocked on Jesse’s apartment door one night while the boy himself was out with his friends Donald, Bumper, and Benji.

“What’re you doing here?” Beca had asked, arms crossed as warm wind blew up into the apartment and caused goosebumps to form on her bare arms.

They were twenty two when Chloe had told Beca she was in love with her.

“I’m in love with you,” she had said, eyes filled with something Beca had never, ever seen before in her best friend.

“I…,” Beca had trailed off, watching as Jesse’s car pulled up and the man got out to start making his way inside.

“Hey babe,” he kissed her on the cheek when he reached the top of the steps. “I’m gonna go take a shower but Million Dollar Baby later?” He had asked.

Beca formed a tight smile and nodded, allowing her boyfriend to enter the apartment and return to the conversation.

“I’m in love with you,” Chloe had said again, quieter this time, less confidently than before (which was not a lot at all).

“I’m with Jesse,” is all Beca could say, and when she noticed the redhead going in to say something more, she stopped her with her own words. “I’m with Jesse,” she repeated. “And I waited for you for  _years_. Was in love with you for  _years_. So whatever this,” she motioned between them, “is, it can’t happen. It won’t. Because I wanted you for years and you knew. and then we made out and you said stupid shit and… and we got so much closer when I let go, Chlo. When I moved on and stopped… stopped waiting. I waited for you for almost five years, Chloe Beale. And I’m happy now. So if… if you really want me… if you really  _love_  me,” she paused, a breath shaking its way out, “you’ll wait for me too.”

The door shut and Chloe was the one waiting.

* * *

_Waiting is a dangerous, stupid, heart-wrenching game._

Beca Mitchell waited for years for something she didn’t even think could exist in any realm of possibility.

Until it did.

She didn’t… she didn’t want to wait any longer. Even if… even if Jesse was a perfectly nice and reasonable guy. She didn’t want to wait one more damn minute if she knew the thing she coveted was right there in front of her, for the first time in all their years, wanting her back.

Waiting is stupid.

* * *

_And maybe that’s the point. Waiting is not some unilateral thing. And it is not a game and it is not everything it is all cracked up to be._

_The thing about waiting is, above all else, it is the worst form of torture that any human being could go through without actually being considered a form of torture. It is the most unethical of all the things in the universe, and any and all implications of it are not easy._

_Because sometimes, a lot of the time, the thing you are waiting for just will not happen. It will not come to you in real life like it does in movies or TV shows or books. You will not be vindicated for the murders you did not commit nineteen years prior and that is the point._

_You have to take your own destiny into your hands, use a rock hammer to break yourself free, and then climb through 500 yards of sewage just to get to freedom._

_Sometimes, a lot of the time, the thing you are waiting for just will not happen._

 

“Becs,” Chloe came up behind the brunette at her desk and peered over her shoulder. “Whatcha writing?” She asked as she barely scanned the end of the document Beca was on.

“My Psych paper,” Beca shrugged.

“Hmm,” Chloe hummed, “it’s not a very happy one, is it?” Chloe asked with a frown as she read the last paragraph.

“Hey,” Beca spun her chair around and faced the redhead, hands finding hips. “Read the last sentence.”

 

_But sometimes, every so often, the thing you are waiting for happens to be everything you ever wanted._

And a smile was brought to both of their faces as Chloe finished the last sentence before being pulled forward by the brunette’s grasp over her hips and bringing their lips together in the most rewarding of kisses.


End file.
